


Five mornings in New York.

by mirokkuma



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Smut, uke!Jin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:44:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirokkuma/pseuds/mirokkuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today he has toast, not pancakes. There's no butter, because Jin insisted on baking a cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five mornings in New York.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluebirdsongs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebirdsongs/gifts).



> RP AU-verse in which Kame is a fashion photographer/model and taking an intensive course in English to prepare for his work in NY, and Jin.. Well, he hasn't done much of anything since they moved there. (..and yes, Jin has lip piercings and dyes his hair red).

Fumbling beneath his pillow, Jin desperately tries to shut off the muffled sound for fear of it waking his lover, although if the disruption he has caused so far hasn’t, it’s unlikely a few more lines of Alejandro will.  
Thumb hovering over the snooze button, it takes a long glance at the softly snoring form beside Jin for him to remember that this is for a good cause. And anyway, Jin reminds himself after a yawn, he can always crawl back into bed later.

As is every day since their move to New York, Kame’s classes will start at 9am, and Jin will spend the day job-hunting; a practice that generally consists of napping, cooking, cleaning, scribbling down lyrics and melodies as the inspiration takes him (Jin has in fact written an entire song during a particularly eventful week), and playing with his favourite new toy - a webcam, to talk to Pi.  
Kame has more than once told Jin that it’s not necessary for him to find a job, but Jin feels awkwardly indebted to his lover if he doesn’t at least keep up the pretence of intending to help support them.

Satisfied with the state of his now somewhat tamed morning hair, Jin takes a final wide yawn before straightening his hastily pulled on shirt and making his way, quietly as possible, back to the bed.

“Morning, Kazu~” Jin murmurs sweetly, settling on his knees beside the bed. “Time to wake up.”

Kame grunts softly in response, Jin breaking into a grin as the younger man wrinkles his nose and burrows deeper under the sheets.

“C’mon babe, time for breakfast~”

Squirming weakly at the puff of warm breath against his cheek, Kame offers Jin a sleepy smile when lips press to the corner of his mouth. But he doesn’t open his eyes.

“Five more minutes..” Kame sounds optimistically hopeful, and Jin’s smile grows ever wider. He would have believed no one that Kame would one day break his routine of rising at 5am to seek out coffee, yet seemingly only a month (and seventeen days, Jin dutifully counted all that time ago) of living together had Kame adept to the occasional lie in.

Ever diligent, Jin, after several more lingering seconds, moves in for a second attempt.  
“Kazu, you have class today~,” he coos softly, and Kame’s lethargic state almost lets Jin’s sweet tone lull him back to sleep. But there it is again, and a gentle rock of his shoulder with Jin’s large, warm hand, and to his disappointment, Kame is fully awake.

 

Hair still damp from a very brief shower, it isn’t until Kame, after browsing the entire contents of his closet twice over, is accumulating a large tangle of beaded necklaces over his casual (but pleasingly expensive) baby blue T-shirt that the scent reaches him; pancakes.

Inhaling short and shallow as he heads to the kitchen, Kame doesn’t put to the back of his mind an expectancy of acrid burning hitting the back of his throat. Although there have been more successes than disasters, Jin has struggled to adjust to their new kitchen, so Kame is pleasantly surprised to see the situation entirely under control; Jin not looking one bit out of place in the centre of the kitchen, apron strings in a messy bow, freshly dyed hair pinned up and shimmering scarlet in the sunlight.  
Flashing Kame’s precisely dishevelled appearance a wide smile, Jin’s bare feet pad across the hardwood floor as he heads to the fridge, telling Kame to sit.

Taking his usual place at the counter, Kame’s focus strays from the thin, clingy material of Jin’s T-shirt to the carton of milk occupying the space his elbows had been hoping for.

“Ne, Jin, what’s the word for ‘grass‘ in English?” Kame asks, eying the carton with his head at a methodical tilt. He had learned about flowers and trees (why necessary to his studies he would never know), but so far his textbook had little to offer on other landscape.

Jin tells him, smiling warmly at Kame’s intensely focused expression and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth as he leans across the counter to pass him a glass of orange juice. “And because there’s a lot of it, it’s a field.” he continues in slow, punctuated English, not missing the disdained wrinkle of Kame’s nose when he takes a sip from his cup of distinctly-not-coffee.

Turning his attention back to the pancakes, Jin cheerfully elaborates on the difference between a field and a park until Kame’s responses sound unenthused enough for him to get that it’s a little early for full-blown bilingual conversation.

Focus still on the carton of milk, Kame, after giving the picture a once over and successfully naming everything he saw - cow, fence, grass (field, because there’s a lot of it) - utters an attempt at a word.  
Jin turns to him with an expectant smile, but silence follows.

Holding the carton at a precise angle, Kame squints at it as though he could summon the word out of it by will power alone. Or frighten it out, Jin thinks when the look turns into more of a glare.  
“Furu..” he attempts feebly, not needing to glance to Jin for his disapproval when he hears a sound escape his mouth that resembles none of what Jin has taught him about the complexities of L’s and R’s.

Feigning disinterest in his unsuccessful conquest, Kame gives Jin’s encouraging smile an indignant look, but soon turns back to his task.  
“ _Full_ ,” he forces out, tongue clumsy in his mouth as it places the unfamiliar sound. “Fa..tsu? To?”

“Fat” Jin corrects him, and Kame can’t spare him a small glare for his effortlessness. Jin turns, heads to the counter, and to Kame’s pleasant surprise, lifts his shirt high enough to expose a good few inches of tanned skin (and that damned distracting piercing).  
A finely shaped brow rising towards his hairline is Kame’s silent question, and when Jin prods a finger to his stomach, it only raises higher.

“Fat. This.” Jin gives his own stomach another gentle poke, finger barely making an impact to the non-existent round of his belly that he regularly complained would soon threaten to overhang his waistband.

Kame rolls his eyes, long since past promising Jin he’s anything but fat, and reaches - an uncomfortable but well worth the effort stretch - across the counter to press his drained glass to Jin’s stomach, the shriek he lets out ever so satisfying.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

“How’s the job hunting going?” Kame asks with unveiled disinterest, more than happy to hear about what Jin fills the time with but having little patience with the preceding excuses.

Today he has toast, not pancakes. There’s no butter, because Jin insisted on baking a cake for their newly discovered friendly neighbours - a young, giggling couple (that have happily leant Jin countless cookery books when he had mention in passing having no idea what kind to purchase of his own) that seemingly have yet to realize the relationship between the two Japanese men that had moved in across the hall.

“It’s going well,” Jin says around the rim of his glass, teeth clicking against it before he resorts to gulping down copious amounts of milk to avoid further cause to comment. Kame has no qualms with this, shrugging and giving today’s glass of distinctly-not-coffee (milk) a venomous glare. “The couple across the hallway liked the cake.”

“Good.” Kame says sweetly, hoping that they liked it enough to compensate for how little he is enjoying dry toast.

Jin notices the unimpressed down turn of Kame’s lips with each bite he takes, and smiles as he rinses his glass. “I’ll get some groceries today. I could ask at the store if they have a job while I’m there.”

“You might have to work nights.”  
Kame says this without a seconds thought, giving Jin a grave nod of his head when his lover turns to him with wide eyes. “Or mornings - up at 4am to sort out the fresh produce (‘and serve people like I used to be,’ Kame mentally adds, wincing at the thought. ‘People that have had two hours sleep and somewhere to be, and wont have time for your beautiful smile. You’ll get hurt, Jin.’). They’ll probably want you in at 4am, too, not up at 4 in at 5. And think how early you’d have to go to sleep to do that.”

Jin’s brow creases, fingers twitching as he mentally tries to calculate the hours. Thoughts lost somewhere between how much he’s sure he’d love to sort through produce still dotted with morning dew and how beautiful the sunrise would be each day as he walked to work, he’s verging on not minding how much or little sleep he may get. His expression must make this obvious, as Kame pushes his point.

“No snuggles for Jin.” He says, wondering if perhaps it’s slightly underhand. “Not working those hours.”

“Oh,” Jin utters, turning his empty glass in his hands. “Maybe I’d better not ask for now, then.”

Kame offers him a sympathetic smile, “Sorry sweetie, don’t give up.” and gulps down the remains of his milk, sparing Jin’s feelings and waiting until his back is turned before sticking his tongue out in disgust.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

“Kazu~?”

Jin waits, and then gives Kame a gentle nudge with his elbow. Kame grunts, shifts as though he’s about to blink open his eyes and slowly, heavily drag himself out of bed. Seconds pass, and Jin nudges him again. The elder man breathes a silent sigh of relief when he does nothing.

Watching Kame sleep is calming for Jin; seeing his eternally stressed and overworked lover completely relaxed soothes his nerves in a way very little else can. And although Jin loves his long, lethargic mornings spent sprawled out in their bed, he finds that if all he sees of Kame until the afternoon is the brief, blurry flash of his face when he leans in to kiss Jin goodbye, he misses him. He misses the uniquely pleasant feeling of watching Kame prepare for the day ahead; he misses the very sight of him, the way that Kame never looks better than when his hair is roughly towel dried and falling in front of his eyes as he stares intently at Jin’s lovingly clumsy way of serving breakfast, and then, if he thinks he’s been caught, glances away with a mischievous smile.

It was rapidly heading towards the end of summer. The view out of their bedroom window today is dim and forebodingly autumnal; fat drops of rain too prominent on the glass for much else to be visible even if it hadn’t been quite so dark outside. At 6:42 on a potentially stormy day, Jin wasn’t expecting much more.  
While Jin is immersed in watching the heavy, black clouds roll by, Kame sleeps deeply, peacefully; sprawled on his back and none the wiser to Jin’s absorption in the weather coming to an untimely end and, naturally, shifting to him.

Interest now fully on Kame, Jin’s mind is buzzing with ideas. Good ones, he thinks (but then doesn’t he always).  
Slightly hesitant (despite how good the idea may be) to take the initiative, Jin studies Kame’s expression with intense concentration as he leans closer, body stretching long and lithe in a way Kame would have greatly appreciated had he been awake to see it. When, finally, Jin makes his decision to lift the blankets up, he realizes that for Kame to not be woken by the cold he needs to abandon his hesitant approach to the situation.

Giving Kame a final, somewhat suspicious look to make sure he’s still sleeping soundly, Jin makes quick work of squirming down beneath the sheets.

Kame’s body is warm and solid as Jin inches down lower, pressing shoulder to stomach, forearm to knees, and laughing softly at his earlier efforts to be subtle when after all of that disruption, Kame is still fast asleep, and he is comfortably settled just where he wanted to be. (Or as comfortable as is possible when buried under a thick, suffocating pile of blankets and trapped between the thighs of a man prone to sudden movements in his sleep.)

Entirely oblivious to all of this, Kame is hazily drifting from dream to dream; nothing so remarkable that he’ll remember it, translate it’s happenings into shaky English for the benefit of his classes tediously repetative early morning conversations, or even tell Jin in passing as he adjusts to being awake. Stress, Kame finds, rarely leads to pleasant dreams.  
This all drastically changes when, in the middle of a dreary, non-descript sequence, his dream-self experiences a sudden bloom of warmth in the pit of his stomach. It spreads slowly and steadily the length of his body, shortly followed by hot, ceaseless waves of arousal as the sensation becomes increasingly powerful.

“Ohh..” Kame groans, dimly aware of a subtle, unconscious arch of his back. And what, when fully awake, he would only be able to describe as the most vividly pleasurable dream he’s ever had, is suddenly under threat by both the thud of now torrential rain beating against the window and his own semi-conscious state.  
It’s the echo of rain that reaches him first, initially a dull wash of white noise ringing in his ears, but now a strong, miserable sound that cuts clearly through his lethargy.

For several long, sleep clouded moments, Kame finds the unwavering sensation of his blissful state just that - this dream is pretty fucking awesome, it’s after effects so lengthily. Moments later, Kame is fully awake and a clearer understanding of the situation has kicked in.

“Jin--!”

Anyone that claimed morning voices were sexy had clearly never heard Kame’s as he squawks his lovers name a second time, now acutely aware of the pressure on his thighs when he throws back the covers with a flourish to reveal a noticeably dishevelled Jin, who had had the sense to halt his ministrations when discovered, and was looking grateful to be out in open air again.

“What are you doing?” Kame asks, and then realizes what a redundant question it is. Face tinted pink, he reaches down to pull the covers up over Jin’s bare shoulders. “I mean.. ..this is a.. surprise.”  
Kame’s not entirely sure why there’s an underlying defensiveness to his voice, or why he feels oddly affronted at Jin’s behaviour. He could easily put it down to how perpetually moody he has been since the new school term; it was deeply rooted in his personality to enjoy the challenge, but when it was as seemingly endless and increasingly demanding as his classes were proving to be, it was distinctly losing the thrill it had initially held. This is no fault of Jin’s, though, and sweet, caring, ever worrying Jin has already taken the brunt of his work-related frustration.

There’s a flicker of uncertainty in Jin’s gaze when he meets Kame’s eyes, and Kame’s expression immediately softens.  
“Well, it _is_ a surprise.” he says, tone carefully measured. “It’s not like you.. ‘s not like you to be awake at this time, either.” He elaborates with an affectionate smile when Jin continues to look uncertain, ruffling his hair lightly before settling back down against the pillows.

Jin hums, absently tracing his fingers over Kame’s hip. “Rain woke me~ And then..”

“And then you got the great idea to wake me, too?” Kame finishes for him, a gently teasing look in his heavy lidded eyes.

“Basically.”

The interruption and following conversation is sufficient to draw Jin’s mind from his task; enough to leave his attention wide open for numerous distractions - one of which is just how far Kame had flung the covers. The downpour of rain has knocked the temperature dramatically low in comparison to the warm, somewhat humid mornings they’ve been enjoying for the past few months, leaving Jin feeling decidedly cold, and he can only assume that, exposed as he is, Kame must be too.

Kame’s stomach gives a small jolt when Jin’s chin scrapes over his hip. “Stubble burn~” he whines teasingly, watching Jin with a curious little smile as the elder man, having pushed himself up onto his knees, gathers the blankets around his shoulders.

“Jin?” Kame’s brow draws into a slight frown as Jin, robe of blankets and all, clambers up over his body.

“Cold.” Jin says simply, pushing, pulling and tucking the folds of the blanket around them until they’re both securely engulfed in a sea of twisted, knotted covers. Jin’s broad shoulders feel icy cold when Kame’s fingers brush over them, and he meets Jin with a gently reprimanding gaze. Jin shrugs and gives him a smile, but says nothing as he lowers his head to rest under Kame’s chin.

Moments pass, and gradually the soft puff of Jin’s breath against the curve of Kame’s throat becomes heavier, steadier. And Kame sighs wistfully as the promise of Jin fulfilling his little surprise rapidly decreases.

 

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

‘I got another B (thumbs up) ￼￼￼￼New chapter today. SHOPPING! (bag)(shoes)(sparkle)(sparkle)￼￼ ￼￼￼ Love you (turtle)(heart)(guitar)￼‘. Kame’s eyes skim the text briefly before he hits send, having tapped out the majority of it blindly, phone hidden under the desk.

“Kazuya,” he hears, followed by a hushed round of giggles from his classmates, and his neck prickles with heat.

“Gome-- _s-sorry_ ,” Kame catches himself, face flushing as he forces out an apology. “ _Sorry, I’m ri-- listening._ ”

His tutor gives him a humorously exasperated look from the front of the class, tapping her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose before flicking through her textbook. “We all know you’re excited about the wedding, but page 37 like everybody else, please.”

Kame nods, face heating further as he flips to the next chapter. A quick, subtle glance at his dictionary and his face flares ever hotter when he realizes exactly what that reprimand entailed.

 

By his lunch break, Kame feels pleasantly smug with his progress - which of course he knew would be good, after all the practice. Weeks of Jin reading the pages of glossy fashion magazines to him like bedtime stories, and listening to his lover discuss their many purchases (when he’s not too absorbed in thinking how good either he or Jin will look in the newly acquired item) has given him a head start.  
Replacing costly jewellery and obscenely expensive (equally as obscenely tight) jeans with groceries and tickets for the sake of answering the textbook questions seemed to be serving as a good technique so far.

Still happily reciting his perfected vocab list as he settles in his usual spot for lunch, it’s only when Kame is unpacking the contents of his lunch bag onto the bench that he really notices the chill in the air. He had, of course, noticed the evident signs of autumn becoming fully-fledged - leaves turning, far too many must-have heavy Winter coats (with gloves, scarves and hats to match) for his wallet to withstand, and the sound of Jin’s heavy bare footed steps on the hard wood floor reduced to the shuffle (and occasional slip) of either socks or those terrible Ugg boots that Kame refuses to be seen in public with.  
But only now, when he finds his fingers stiffening, does Kame believe that yes, he’s seen the last of summer.

An onigiri gracelessly stuffed in his mouth and another held in his palm, Kame drags his things across the small courtyard and ducks into an alcove, resting his bags on the splintering bench there and only just finding room for himself. But both sheltered from the biting chill in the air and close enough to the building for him to get the occasional drift of heat from inside, Kame decides that the small, aging bench will do just fine.  
Not that he didn’t have friends he could go and sit with if he wanted, Kame thinks indignantly between repeating his vocab list when he silently questions his choice to eat alone; it’s just that sometimes he prefers the solace of being in his own company. And besides, his teacher’s earlier comment has caused interest in his living arrangements to resurface, and Kame has quickly tired of the rounds of questions his classmates have found to ask regarding his relationship.

In his class, Kame feels he is barely scraping through as ‘comfortably’ above average - a pressure which, if it weren’t for Jin’s constant reassurance (and simplistic conversations to replenish Kame’s ever needy confidence), would drive him to push his limits. No; Kame smiles widely as he prizes the lid from his bento to find the sticky rice littered with small heart shaped nori, sometimes not having to converse with those he is in a constant silent competition with is a good thing for his tired mind.

Finding that his second onigiri comes complete with a very shakily crafted ‘K.K’ and a sad little torn attempt at a turtle in the nori wrap, Kame’s stomach performs a small, happy flip as he digs out his phone to get a picture, as oblivious to the two figures passing by as they are to him.

“No, I mean he seems nice, that boy Kazuya is engaged to.” Kame’s teacher says with a tone that alludes to it not being that simple. Of course, because of all things, love is never straightforward.  
Kame’s heart leaps to his throat when he catches his name, and although not one to make a habit of listening in on other peoples conversations, he feels perfectly entitled to now be straining to hear.

After a few softly spoken sentences in which Kame understands little more than conjunctions, he can’t curse enough his lack of conversational English when he feels the steady rhythm of his pulse becoming increasingly frantic, as although the words mean nothing, he doesn’t miss the sympathetic, somewhat snide tone to the conversation.

“He’s just..” his teacher gestures vaguely with her hands, as though she can’t place the exact word she wants, and Kame is almost out of his seat he’s leaning so far too hear. ‘He’s just’ what? Kame thinks aggressively, having caught that and now feeling fully prepared, if necessary, to learn enough insulting words to inform her that his fiancé is nothing but the best thing in his life, far better than she even deserves to--

“He sounds nice. Silly, fluffy little thing, though, from what I’ve heard. Not what I would have expected.”

And Kame has heard enough. He doesn’t need to be fluent in the same language to know what kind of person his tutor is saying she would have expected him to be with, and is now far more interested in rifling through his dictionary to fully understand what insults may have just befallen the love of his life.

Silly - well, yes, Kame concedes, Jin may well fit under that description sometimes, although the remark still stings a little. Jin’s more idiotic tendencies just need to be understood, that’s all.  
He lets out a snort of indignant laughter, loud enough to startle a girl passing by that had let Kame go completely unnoticed hidden in his little alcove, when he reaches ‘little’ and assumes that none of the sources his tutor has acquired her knowledge of his relationship from have ever actually seen Jin first hand.

Although a far less wounding attack than he had been expecting, Kame’s defensive aggression is still only just settling beneath the surface as he skims the book in search of the final word. Running his finger down the page for any words resembling the one he‘s looking for, Kame wonders exactly how many of the schools pupils - mostly adult, foreign students like himself, now know about his relationship with Jin. Not that he cares in the least who he may have to defend his relationship to, although he can’t deny that knowing his teacher’s opinion on his love life is somewhat unsettling..  
Ah, fluffy.

Eyes briefly scanning the description, eager to take it in, Kame does a double take. Reading the sentence a second time, his anger all but melts into an odd, almost painful little twist somewhere situated deep in his chest. Affection, he quickly realizes, and reads the definition once more, his cheeks burning with welcomed warmth on that cold autumn day.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

“Stop _smiling_ at me like that! _Jin_ , you’re not helping!”

Jin’s grin only widens, and Kame scowls in response, turning on his heel and making a quick exit back into the bedroom before Jin has the chance to start cooing nonsense at him.  
At barely 7am, it’s rare for Jin to be out of bed, let alone dressed and fully, annoyingly wide awake. When snow is concerned, however, it’s an entirely different matter.

“But Kazu,” Jin calls after his lover, socks skidding along the floor as he quickly takes chase. “Why are you even looking for your bus pass? The roads will be closed~”

“Shut up.” Kame’s voice drifts back to him, followed by a short, punctuated curse, which Jin assumes is the moment of realization. “But the trains aren’t running..”  
Kame’s expression is woeful as he shuffles from one room to the next, pacing back and forth as though he will find a solution to his travel issues if he can just search hard enough. Attention still more focused on the heavy clouds of snow, Jin takes the decisive action of heading back to the couch and amusing himself with the view out of the window rather than getting in Kame‘s way.

 

The next time Jin catches sight of Kame is five minutes later, with his phone pressed to his ear and armfuls of folders held tightly against his chest.  
“But there’s that test today!” Kame exclaims rather shrilly in English, and Jin shoots him a curious smile. Kame ignores it, gracelessly dumping his folders onto the kitchen counter and making short work of one-handedly fighting out numerous sheets of what appeared to be timetables. “And all that homework.. No, I know that, but..”

Jin watches with great interest, disregarding the few moments when Kame clearly doesn’t understand what’s been said on the other end of the line. Kame’s Intensive English course is evidently living up to it’s name, and Jin can’t quite ignore the subtle throb of dejection building inside as he listens. From the occasional glance he gets at Kame’s homework he has assumed that his lover is progressing well, but Jin had nor was he given any inclination that he was _that_ good.

Brow furrowed, Jin is thoughtfully mourning the conversations that could have taken place - simple, slightly inaccurate, but an accomplishment nonetheless- and doesn’t notice that Kame has resumed pacing up and down, up and down, until the thud of his heavy steps on the hardwood floor distracts them both from their thoughts.  
Kame mutters a curse directed either to the window, the weather, or the distance of his school as he stalks back to the counter.

The blizzard (as Jin cheerfully calls it, although in meteorological terms it still has a way to go yet) outside has been merciless to many who have places to be, things to be done. The city is slowly coming to a standstill as only the most urgent of jobs are being carried out- even then with some difficulty. Jin spends several minutes fidgeting on the couch, his eyes slowly travelling from Kame to the window over and over as he debates mentioning this simple fact to the younger man.

“I need to get to school but nothing is working,” Kame looks up from the counter suddenly, startling Jin as he tells him this as though he has been absent from the morning’s events, emphasising every other word by waving a fan of vocab sheets. “I don’t know what to do..”

“Stop.” Jin suggests bluntly. Kame shoots him a look that dares Jin to test his patience, simultaneously warning him of the consequences should he take him up on it.  
Not particularly wanting to worsen Kame’s mood or risk a fight (which would undoubtedly put an end to any chance of Kame having a change of heart towards the snow storm and letting Jin drag him out into it later in the day, when it had settled into something more scenic - romantic, even), Jin turns away from both Kame and his masses of class work.

For several long, boring minutes, Jin just sits there. Head rested against the back of the couch and eyes dull as he stares up at the ceiling, he traces the knots in the wood for lack of anything better to do.  
The sound of Kame shuffling his papers around fades in and out, but Jin feigns indifference when it noticeably stops.

Kame glances at Jin, not in the mood for playing along with whatever he was doing, and sitting beside him. The couch is easily big enough for three, yet, to Kame’s feigned indifference, their knees bump as he straightens out the stack of paper in his hands with a few taps of it to his leg.  
The sound catches Jin’s attention. Head lolling to the side, he watches Kame with vague, if slightly concerned, interest as his fiancé methodically works his way through the sheets.

“You know,” Jin ventures softly, when what seemed to him like the most obvious thing about the situation had yet to dawn on Kame, “That if no one else from your class can make it in either, they’ll just hold the test off until another day.”

“What?”

Jin nods towards the coffee table, and so Kame, frowning deeply, cautiously places the papers there, only to find Jin’s arms suddenly encircling him, and the elder man whines in response to words that have yet to leave Kame’s mouth, having the sense to silence him early on.

Kame takes in a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh, a small, tired smile creeping onto his lips as he doesn’t fight the tightness of Jin’s arms around him. Fully relaxing into the embrace comes slowly to his tense body, as does the acceptance of there really being nothing more he can do.  
“I over reacted, didn’t I..”

Jin loyally shakes his head. He never likes to give Kame reason to believe that he could, on occasions, be slightly challenging to deal with, although they both know what the real answer is. Kame leans up to nuzzle Jin’s cheek, grateful for his little white lies.

Sighing again, Kame‘s lips brush Jin‘s chin as he slowly pulls back. “I just really wanted to try and make it in..” he starts with a long sideways glance at the window. This prompts another shake of Jin’s head, and Kame can’t help smiling as Jin insists that being snowed in is something to make the most of, not fight.

Jin reiterates this with a nudge of his nose to Kame’s cheek, smiling at the frown it earns him and then leaning in.  
Kame has yet to fully detach himself from the hope of somehow still making his way into class, but Jin’s lips are warm, cracked and rough against his own. Jin hesitates, gauging Kame’s reaction before leaning back in with parted lips, taking a gentle lead but leaving it to Kame to set the pace.

“You know I should revise if I can’t go in..” Kame smiles through his words, giggling as Jin’s response is to firmly attach his lips to Kame’s neck and suck. “We could revise together,” he continues, words faltering as his breath hitches with each wet kiss along his jaw, “Verbs, and.. shopping, and..”

“And?” Jin is paying little attention as he carefully finds his way into Kame’s lap, Kame’s hands supporting his hips as he stretches, then curls a long leg either side of his lover.  
“And we could talk~” Kame muses, hands warm and sliding higher as he shifts under Jin both to even out his weight and to draw their hips closer.

Dismissing any comments regarding Kame’s improved conversation skills that come to mind, Jin simply grunts to show that he was listening. Was listening, but now isn’t, more interested in tightening his grip on Kame’s shoulder so he can lean across and delve his hand down between the couch cushions.

“Pervert.” Kame states once Jin has straightened up again, lube in hand, a shy grin playing on his lips. Jin snorts at the irony.

“Says the man that put it there in the first place,” he mutters, motioning with his eyes for Kame to work on their jeans.  
Kame complies, deciding against fighting a losing battle as to how and why the lube has ended up living inside the couch, and instead making quick work of tugging Jin’s jeans down, dragging them over his thighs as he watches Jin fumble with the tube.

Steadying himself with knees pressed firmly into the couch, Jin momentarily abandons his effort with the tube’s cap to reach down and take Kame in hand, giving him a few slow strokes while he shifts underneath Jin to struggle out of his own jeans.  
Kame’s hips give a small jerk in response, and he pouts when the attention comes to an abrupt end as Jin turns back to fighting with the tube.

“What? I’m busy.” Jin says with a smile when he notices Kame’s expression. “I don’t know, I can never get the stupid top off of the thing, if it’s a tube or a bottle or.. one of those other ones..” He continues, fingers sticky and wet as Kame willingly shifts with him to find a more accommodating position, and Kame can’t help the slightly incredulous look on his face as Jin’s line of conversation barely falters, spare for the catch to his breath.  
Kame has tried numerous times to take the submissive role; because he’s curious, to give Jin the chance to experience what he does, and because sometimes, just sometimes, he needs the intense, aching feel of trust, love and understanding that the situation draws from them both. None of these reasons stop it from hurting like hell in the beginning, though, and he often wonders where exactly the defining difference between his and Jin’s enjoyment of this necessity is.

Jin groaning deep and loud somewhere close to Kame’s ear puts an abrupt end to his train of thought, and he absently slips a hand down between them as he watches the constant tense, relax, tense of Jin’s shoulders. Loosely curling his fingers around Jin’s cock and then his own, Kame ignores the soft whine Jin lets out (partially because he’s not entirely certain he knows what it’s in aid of - faster, slower, not together, not at all?) and starts to stroke at a pace he anticipates they’ll both appreciate.  
“Ok?” he asks rhetorically, and Jin responds by rocking down harder onto his own fingers.

Unless planned, they rarely take things at this speed. Kame winces when a twinge of guilt stems from the way Jin’s entire body shudders as he pushes his fingers in deep and curls, and he can’t help but wonder if Jin is rushing through this not just because he’s eager, but because he wants to ensure that Kame doesn’t devise some method of leaving their apartment to battle snow and a desolate transport system to find his way to class if given the time to consider it.  
The way Jin kisses him between breathlessly stuttering out that he’s ready, more than ready, and _Kazu, hurry up~_ makes him quickly think otherwise, and Kame obediently reaches for the lube. Tilting his head back with a breathy laugh as he and Jin have a brief little battle over who has the job of slathering his cock, he gives in and lets Jin take over when the flecks of lube landing on his thighs threaten to reach the couch as Jin’s flailing becomes increasingly dramatic with his insistence.

“Are you..?” Kame starts, gripping Jin’s hips tightly as Jin pushes himself up onto his knees and positions himself, thigh muscles trembling.  
“Yeah.” Jin says dismissively, assuming that whatever Kame wanted to ask, yes, of course he is. In truth the experience is proving slightly nerve-wracking - usually everything is slower, and moves with as much flow as they’ve found possible between the unavoidable little stops and starts. Not that this isn’t going well. No, not at all, Jin thinks as he drags his teeth over the base of Kame’s neck and Kame tenses underneath him.

“Yeah,” Jin licks his lips and starts again when Kame seems uncertain, “It’s ok, ’m ready.”

Back arching in anticipation, Jin reaches, falters, then carefully guides himself down. It’s achingly slow, and Kame is vaguely aware of the quiet, comforting words leaving his mouth unbidden as Jin pays him no heed and sinks lower, lower, and _oh God_ it feels good, the initial burn already dull in the back of Jin’s mind as he watches Kame mirror his pleasure.

At this point, Jin easily could have started to feel uncomfortable. Anything from the time of day to the brightness of the room, or just how exposed and vulnerable he feels in the centre of their apartment would have been enough, had Kame not anticipated this.  
Swallowing thickly, Kame strokes his thumb over Jin’s hipbone as a comforting little distraction while they wait - for Jin to feel ready to move, to decide if he’s really alright with this. Kame shows him a gentle, understanding smile as he hesitates for a moment longer. Then Jin rolls his hips, and Kame’s soft expression all but crumbles as he lets out a choked groan of his lovers name.

Reassured by Kame’s reaction, Jin glances down at him, face flushed and eyes glassy. As he raises his hips, Kame seems to recompose himself for just long enough to reach up and comb his fingers through Jin’s hair, tell him he’s doing fine, and then he’s lost again.

“Mm..”  
Several long, breathless moments pass, and when they’ve slipped into a rhythm both gentle on Jin’s strained legs and Kame’s crushed hips, Jin’s fingers slip under the hem of Kame’s sweater, nails skimming his hip. Kame’s hands inch towards Jin’s, but Jin shakes his head. A brief flash of mutual understanding, and Kame returns to gripping Jin’s hips.  
“Like I’d try to get you out of your shirt when it’s this cold..” Jin’s tone is mock-wounded as he runs his large, warm palms over Kame’s torso, the fabric of the younger man’s sweater scratching over his knuckles. Kame attempts to make light of it, but the added sensation of Jin’s fingertips sweeping over his body leaves him with no more than a sharp jerk of his hips in response, Jin squeaking and falling forwards with the movement.

Jin shushes Kame with wet, misaimed kissed to his lips when he tries to apologize for nearly throwing Jin out of his lap, and he wraps his arms tightly around Kame’s shoulders.

“In case you do it again.” Jin jokes weakly, but in reality, he just wants to hold Kame close and let himself be taken; dig his fingers into the thick fabric of Kame’s sweater and not let go until their hearts and bodies have reached their frantic limits, and the breath starts to return to his body. But, disorientated by sensation as he may be, Kame understands Jin. He doesn’t need to be told to know that the scrabbling at his back and Jin’s thighs clamping down on his hips is more for reassurance than anything else.

“Love you so much..” Jin mumbles somewhere close to Kame’s ear; a breathless, strained little sound, and things speed up considerably from that point on.

Now with more control of their movements, Kame wouldn’t later deny struggling slightly to take the lead when it was a matter of Jin’s full weight bearing down on him, but Jin soon realizes the problem and cautiously shifts some of the pressure back into his legs.  
“Thanks.” Kame pants against Jin’s shoulder as he feels the weight distribute more comfortably, and he can’t quite dismiss the dim throb of guilt as the muscles in Jin’s taut limbs spasm with each movement.

The rush of blood sounds deafeningly loud in Kame’s ears as this continues for several long, shuddering moments, and for a few seconds his mind and body are out of synch. Then Jin’s back arches, his chest suddenly pressing to Kame’s with enough force to take his breath away.  
“There,” Jin groans, “There, _there_ , Kazu--” And he rocks his hips down again, lips parting in a wavering little cry of Kame’s name, over and over.

Drawn into a desperate, somewhat uncomfortable (but by no means unpleasurable) kiss, Kame can’t tell if he’s saying or just thinking the repeat of Jin’s name that resounds so loudly in his mind as they push and grip and press harder and harder; all he registers is that Jin’s goes first, and in the final frantic, erratic moments, takes Kame along with him.

 

“..baby, I love you, but we really ought to move.”

Three minutes later, and spare a quick reorganization of clothing to protect their exposed skin from the chill in the air, neither man has moved. Jin’s a dead weight in Kame’s lap, mumbling a response that Kame neither hears nor needs to hear - he knows it means that Jin’s sorry, but no way is he budging.

“My legs are numb..”

“That’s bad,” Jin tells him wisely, dimly aware of his own legs tingling and aching in a less than pleasant way. The rest of his body feels light, though, and warm, and Kame is even warmer and solid underneath him, and he couldn’t be happier that winter was finally here. “Admit it, you’d rather be here than sitting an English exam.” he adds, lethargy depleting his satisfaction.

“Mm..” Kame’s eyes travel from the countertop plastered in work sheets to the stack on the coffee table, and his lips curl into a smile as they press to Jin‘s hair. “Alright, you win.” he says softly, only after Jin’s deep, rhythmic breaths against his shoulder ensure his confession has fallen upon deaf ears.


End file.
